A/N: Taylor's finally somewhere getting some help. This may take a few chapters. Ah, and I feel I must apologize for not updating in forever. I know I always say I'll update sooner. I try, I really do! But I lost my USB that my story was on for a while, so I couldn't. But now I found it! Read and review please!
In The Hospital Wing
Taylor's brain felt fuzzy, there was definitely something wrong. She also had a throbbing headache. Her arms by her side felt insanely heavy as though they had been filled with lead, and her legs felt heavy and disconnected at the same time. Taylor had a very peculiar sensation that she was actually floating high above the earth and if she opened her eyes and looked down, she would see Hogwarts far below her. But she did not want to open her eyes; they too felt immensely heavy and it seemed that it would take way more energy than she had to open them. No energy, she had no energy at all. She was very comfortable right at the moment, she was warm for once, and she felt as though she could have just stayed there for forever.
There was a sound from next to her, and Taylor became vaguely aware that there was somebody next to her, but as soon as she tried to focus her attention on them, she felt herself drifting back off into a deep sleep.
However many minutes – hours? days? – later, Taylor felt herself slowly regaining consciousness. She still felt extremely comfortable, and as though her limbs were filled with lead and like she was floating miles above the earth, but the headache was gone. She might be able to open her eyes. Trying hard, Taylor's eyes fluttered open, but she immediately closed her eyes tight again; it was really too bright with her eyes open.
A little while later, Taylor decided to try and open her eyes again. This time she was prepared for the light, and squinted. Gradually her eyes got used to the bright light and she slowly opened her eyes further. She was lying in a bed with the curtains closed around her. But they weren't the scarlet bed hangings that were in her dormitory, they were the crisp white linens of the Hospital Wing. The Hospital Wing? What was she doing in the Hospital Wing?
A gap was jerked open in between the bed hangings and Madam Pomfry's kind but worried face appeared peaking in through the space.
"Oh good, you're awake, hunny," she said, sliding the curtains open far enough for her to slide in. She held a cup full of some lime green potion in her hand, which Taylor eyed suspiciously.
"What's that?" She demanded, still eyeing the goblet. Surely it was full of something that was bound to be nasty.
"It's a potion of concentrated nutrients. You, my young lady, are extremely malnourished." She set the cup down on the bed table next to Taylor head and began fussing with the covers on Taylor's bed.
"Did you sleep alright?" The nurse asked, straightening Taylor's pillow. "I gave you a warming draft, I hope that warmed you up, you were cold as ice."
"I slept fine, I was actually warm for once. What happened?" Taylor asked. Her memory was fuzzy, the last thing she could remember was going to Charms, but she couldn't remember actually going into the classroom.
"You passed out," Madam Pomfry said shortly. "And no wonder," she continued, "you are severely underfed."
"I am not," Taylor denied, "I'm fine." And in an attempt to prove her point, she tried to sit up. Almost immediately her head spun and she crumpled back down onto her pillows, her head throbbing.
"You most certainly are not fine," Madam Pomfry said, "but for now we'll avoid that conversation and get you to consume this potion."
"I don't need that potion." Taylor argued. "I'm fine," she repeated.
"You need this potion," Madam Pomfry said imperiously, beginning to help Taylor sit up slowly so that she wouldn't get dizzy. "And you will drink it."
"I won't," Taylor said defiantly, and silently she secretly wondered why she was being so adamant against drinking it.
"This is my Hospital Wing, Miss Kennedy," Madam Pomfry said, now beginning to sound a tad angry. "And you will do what I say or else I will contact the Headmaster and get him to come down here to deal with you." She steadied Taylor in her sitting posture and then positioned the pillows behind her to prop her up. Next the strict nurse forcefully pressed the cup of lime green potion into Taylor's pale, tendon-y hand. "Now drink up," She ordered authoritatively. Taylor took hold of the cup and held it, staring down into the green depths for a long time. Surely this potion was not good for her.
"Good lord, girl," Madam Pomfry said exasperatedly, "it's not poisoned for goodness sakes! I'm just trying to help you."
"I don't need help, I'm fine." Taylor said yet again.
"That is the third time you have said that, young lady, and I quite disagree with you. Now, you will drink this potion." Madam Pomfry was clearly becoming quickly displeased.
"Why do I have to drink it?" Taylor demanded. What was wrong with her? Usually she wasn't this adamant about not doing things. Usually she did what was asked of her if the situation called for it.
Madam Pomfry made a movement as though to throw her hands up in frustration. "Because, girl, you are in severe danger at the moment. Now drink." It was clearly the end of the discussion. No more was going to be said, Taylor could see that. She had lost the argument. Slowly, she raised the cup full of the potion to her lips and drank. The potion was thick, but tasted pleasant enough. After finishing the whole cup of potion, she handed the goblet back to Madam Pomfry.
"There now, that wasn't too bad, now, was it?" Madam Pomfry said, taking the cup, clearly pleased that Taylor had finally agreed to drink the potion. Taylor made a face and made to lie back down upon the bed, intent upon going back to sleep.
"Oh no you don't, hunny," Madam Pomfry said hurriedly. "While you're up I need to take your vital statistics."
"My what?" Taylor asked, severely disappointed that she couldn't go back to sleep at the moment.
"Your vital statistics. Just to make sure everything in your body is functioning normally." The nurse sounded as though she quite doubted that everything was functioning normally in Taylor's body.
"Oh, ok," Taylor said. "What do you need to do?"
"I need to take your heart rate and blood pressure, weigh you, get your height, I'll need a urine sample and a blood sample, and then I'll ask you some questions."
"Oh," Taylor said, thinking of how her heart had been beating irregularly and extra slow lately. Were there other things wrong with her? Was Madame Pomfry going to read these "vital statistics" and determine that she was ill? She wasn't sick…she was just, well, not feeling so great. But surely it was nothing that a nice long nap couldn't fix. She just needed more sleep, that was surely the thing. But no, Taylor was not sick, she knew that. She would know if she was sick, wouldn't she? She didn't have a fever or anything, just a slow heart beat. And there was that blacking out and constant dizziness and lack of concentration, always being fatigued, and continuously being cold. But surely those things did not mean that she was sick. Surely not.
Madam Pomfry whipped a clipboard out from seemingly nowhere and placed it down upon the table beside Taylor's bed and withdrew a stethoscope from one of the many pockets in her starched white apron.
"This may be a bit cold," the nurse said, sticking the cold stethoscope down the front of Taylor's robes and placing it upon her chest. Taylor gasped; the stethoscope was extremely cold on her bare skin. Goose bumps erupted all over her body. Madam Pomfry first counted watched her watch for sixty seconds to time Taylor's heart beat and then instructed Taylor to breath in and out slowly, counting the seconds on her wristwatch, and then put the stethoscope on Taylor's back, first on the right side and then on the left side, telling Taylor to breath in and out slowly again. She pursed her lips tightly and mmhmmed in an unsatisfied way, writing something down upon the clipboard.
Then she took out a blood pressure cuff from another pocket and wrapped it tightly around Taylor's arm, pumping it up until Taylor's arm hurt from the pressure and then gradually letting the air out. Mmhmming again, but nodding her head as though it was what she had expected, she made another mark on the clipboard. Taylor tried to look at what she was writing down, but Madam Pomfry twitched the clipboard out of Taylor's view.
"What is it?" Taylor asked, curious as to what Madam Pomfry's mmhmming meant.
"Significantly low heart rate and blood pressure. Disturbance in your heart's rhythm." The nurse said shortly.
"Is that bad?" Taylor asked. Madam Pomfry gave Taylor a look that clearly said 'of course it is, what do you think, silly girl?'
Then Madam Pomfry grabbed Taylor's hands, "Mmm, poor circulation, dear," she said. "Are your feet also cold?"
"I'm always cold," Taylor said.
"Of course you are," said Madam Pomfry. Taylor didn't know what to say to this so she didn't say anything.
Holding out a hand, Madam Pomfry then said, "Come on dear, on to the scale now with you."
"I don't want to get weighed," Taylor protested, but Madam Pomfry pulled the covers off her, grabbed her under the arms and easily lifted her out of the bed, placing her in her bare feet on the floor, keeping a hand in the small of Taylor's back as the frail girl wavered with dizziness.
"Come on, hunny," said the nurse, and drove Taylor forcefully towards the scales.
Taylor stepped on the scales and watched as Madam Pomfry gradually slid the weights around to determine Taylor's weight. The scale tipped at 115 pounds. Madam Pomfry made another mark on her clipboard. With a snap of her fingers, a tape measure jumped out of her pocket and unraveled along Taylor's height.
"Five foot, nine inches," Madam Pomfry muttered after glancing at the tape measure, more to herself than to Taylor, putting down another mark on Taylor's chart. The nurse turned to Taylor.
"That makes your BMI exactly seventeen. Do you know what that means?" She asked Taylor, who shook her head.
"It means you are underweight. Underweight begins at a BMI of eighteen point five."
"Oh," said Taylor, who couldn't think of anything else to say.
"Mmm," said the nurse. "Now the bathroom is right over there; here is a cup. If you wouldn't mind, would you take a pee in the cup and then return it to me."
Taylor gave the nurse a disgusted look. "Do I have to?" She asked.
"Yes, I'm afraid you do," said Madam Pomfry, pushing the paper cup into Taylor's hand, who took it reluctantly.
When Taylor returned, Madam Pomfry took the cup and placed it on her desk, and then turned to Taylor.
"Now, come sit over here on this chair, I need to take a blood sample." Taylor looked worried, but the nurse didn't say anything to comfort her, merely led her over to the chair and took out a needle.
"Which is your wand arm?" Madam Pomfry asked.
"My right," Taylor replied.
"Right then, you can look away if you wish," Madam Pomfry said, and Taylor looked away from her left arm, where the nurse was standing with the needle. "There, now, breathe out," instructed the nurse and Taylor breathed out, and felt a sharp prick in her nook of her arm. She wanted to jump, but didn't. After a short time, the nurse said, "There now, all done." She took a cotton swab and patted the prick she had made in Taylor's arm before pointing her wand at it and the pin point of blood healed up.
"Now you can head back to your bed, I just want to ask you a few questions first, dear," Madam Pomfry said, patting Taylor on the shoulder. Taylor tried to stand up, but swayed. Whatever was in the lime green potion definitely wasn't helping with her dizziness. Madam Pomfry's arm whipped out of nowhere and caught Taylor, and the nurse's hand stayed on Taylor's shoulder while the frail girl walked towards her bed, where she instantly collapsed.
Taylor wanted to sleep; she didn't want to answer any questions. Without asking, Taylor lifted up the blankets and cuddled under them.
"That's quite alright, hunny," said Madam Pomfry. "I'm going to let you go to sleep soon, don't you worry. I just need to ask you a couple more questions."
Taylor tried hard not to sigh; she wanted to sleep so badly, but a little sigh escaped her mouth.
Madam Pomfry grinned grimly. "I swear I'll let you go to sleep soon, sweetheart, I'll give you a goblet full of a potion for a dreamless sleep and another warming draught, but I really need to get these question."
"Alright," Taylor sighed.
"That's the ticket, dear," said Madam Pomfry. "Now, I take it you've been very tired recently?"
"Yes," answered Taylor, and for good measure, she added, "but I really don't sleep very much lately."
"And why is that?" Asked Madam Pomfry.
"I'm not sure, I mean, I'm really stressed, but I really just can't sleep. And I'm always so cold. It wakes me up at night I'm so cold."
"That was going to be my next question," and Madam Pomfry paused in her questioning while she made several marks on Taylor's chart on her clip board.
"And from what I've noticed while you've been in here, and because you came in from fainting in your Charms classroom, am I right in understanding that you've been dizzy and fainting a lot recently?" Taylor nodded, feeling too bad to answer.
"Now these next questions may seem personal, but I need to know the answer. Have you had constipation lately?" Taylor nodded again, beginning to really feel embarrassed. "And are you still having your period?" Madam Pomfry continued, seemingly oblivious to Taylor's discomfiture. Taylor shook her head.
"I stopped getting it a couple months ago," she replied. Madam Pomfry made some more notes on her clipboard, nodding her head.
"And how has your memory been lately?" Asked Madam Pomfry asked, her quill poised to take down Taylor's answer. Taylor snorted.
"It's been terrible," she responded, and Madam Pomfry nodded and made another note on her clip board.
"What has your depression level been lately? On, say, a scale of one to ten?"
"Oh, pretty bad," Taylor said, wishing she didn't have to answer all these questions, she felt like they were making her out to be some sort of disabled, pathetic person. "I guess maybe an eight or nine. Like I'm not completely ready to commit suicide or anything."
"Completely?" Repeated Madam Pomfry, eyebrows raised. Taylor cursed herself.
"Well, you know…" her voice trailed off.
"Have you been self-harming?" Taylor blushed; she couldn't find her voice to answer she was so embarrassed, so instead she nodded.
"Can I see it?" Madam Pomfry asked. Taylor looked up into the nurse's face and shook her head. "I won't tell anybody," the nurse said, so Taylor reluctantly flicked back the blankets she was cuddled under and pulled up her shirt to show Madam Pomfry her lower abdomen, where the cut shone, wide and deep. Madam Pomfry's eyes looked pitying, so Taylor quickly lowered her shirt, and the nurse made yet another mark on Taylor's chart with a flourish.
"And now would you mind telling me about how much you eat per day?" She asked. Taylor stalled, not knowing what to say. Of course she was barely eating at all, but she could hardly tell the school nurse that.
Madam Pomfry sighed. "Alright, don't answer, but I know you're scarcely eating, I can tell by how much you weigh, you know." Taylor half frowned, she hated being so easy to read. Madam Pomfry smiled sadly and then rested the clip board on the table beside Taylor bed. "Well, we're done here for now," and Madam Pomfry pulled the covers back up on Taylor and then stood up, picking up the clipboard.
"I'm going to get you your potion for a dreamless sleep and the warming draught, and then you can sleep, hopefully warmly, as much as you wish, alright dear?" She called over her shoulder. Soon she had returned, holding a goblet full of a purple liquid and another of red, which she handed to Taylor, who took them gratefully and drank the both quickly.
Madam Pomfry took back the goblets and closed the curtains around Taylor's bed, which Taylor was barely aware of before she drifted off into the most blissful sleep she had had in a long time.
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